Baby Jay
by Leila Secret-Smith
Summary: Jason is turned into a three-year-old. Poor batdad. [Self-indulgent fluff, no real plot]
1. Bruce

The Gotham night was dark and starless; the narrow, trash-strewn alley was darker still, illuminated only fitfully by a single flickering street lamp. Batman loomed in the darkness, a hulking silhouette against the light at his back.

A three-year-old boy stared up at him from the concrete, his green eyes wide and guileless.

Batman stared back, unmoving.

The boy yawned suddenly, mouth stretching to show off perfect rows of milk teeth. He plunked down into the wet concrete without ceremony, the last bit of his adult-sized clothing falling away to reveal a pale, tubby little tummy.

Batman stared.

The boy grumbled in discontent, rubbing at his eyes with two chubby, balled-up fists. With lips twisted into an adorable pout, he tilted his head up to look at the looming vigilante and raised his arms in the universal 'pick me up' gesture.

Batman shook himself from his stupor. With an air of quiet horror, he crouched in front of the baby and lifted him, wrapping the boy's fragile little body in the discarded leather jacket that smelled distinctly of gunpowder and cheap cigarettes.

"Jason," he breathed as the dark-haired baby—marked with a distinctive white forelock—snuggled into the jacket and promptly fell asleep. A unique red helmet rested damningly on the ground before them, reflecting the flickering light of the street lamp. "Jason, _what did you do?_ "

* * *

Alfred took one look at the black-and-white-haired baby in Bruce's arms and turned toward the stairs. "I shall make arrangements, Master Wayne," he said, as if this was a normal occurrence.

Bruce envied his implacable composure.

It was lucky— _so damn lucky_ —that none of his other children were in Gotham at the moment. Well, Dick's presence might have been helpful, but Bruce harbored no illusions as he glanced down at the baby who was curled up in his arms and sucking contentedly on a tiny thumb: Dick would hold this over Jason's head _indefinitely_.

So, it was with mingled relief and annoyance that Bruce balanced Jay in one arm and began running analyses on his second son's discarded clothing.

By the time Alfred returned, frustration had fully eclipsed the relief. There were no chemical traces on the clothing or Jason himself, beyond the expected, which meant—and oh how he hated to say it— _magic._ He sent off a message to a Zatanna as Alfred descended the stairs.

"Problems, Master Wayne?" the butler asked with the barest hint of amusement.

Bruce massaged the bridge of his nose. " _Magic_ ," he muttered in response, spitting the word like a curse.

Jason woke briefly as Bruce replaced the leather jacket with a proper blanket and handed him off to Alfred so he could change out of his suit. The boy grumbled, glaring at the adults with sleepy Lazarus-green eyes; not blue, not the blue he was _born with_ , but the green he was resurrected with. Both Alfred's and Bruce's hearts ached at the sight.

"There's no need for that, Master Jason," the butler tutted, expertly settling the baby in his arms. Jason sighed and laid his head on Alfred's shoulder, worming one tiny hand out of the blanket to latch onto the man's lapel.

Bruce was out of the suit and into pajamas in record time, and no, it was _not_ because his son was so unbearably precious that he couldn't bear to be away from him for a single moment.

What an absurd suggestion.

Alfred handed Jason back over with a tiny, knowing smirk that the billionaire steadfastly ignored. "Considering his age, Master Wayne," the butler said. "I would advise you let him sleep with you, instead of leaving him in his old room."

"I—ah, of course," Bruce stuttered, holding Jason a little more firmly against his chest.

He and Alfred parted ways outside the hall clock, Bruce a little dazed and Alfred sporting a full-blown smug smile. Jason, oblivious to his father's internal struggle, pressed his forehead to the man's neck and mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like " _daddy_ " around his thumb.

Bruce absolutely did not choke up.

Jason curled up against his side as he settled into bed, latching onto his pajamas like a little koala bear. Bruce sighed and carefully curled his arms around the baby.

"We'll figure this out, Jay," Bruce promised in a whisper, pressing his lips against his son's warm forehead. "We'll figure this out, I promise."


	2. Dickie

" _Oh my gooooooooddddd~!"_

Bruce jolted awake at the squealing whisper and found Dick's grinning face hovering a few inches above him. His eyes promptly rolled halfway back into his skull.

"Dick," he sighed in a sleep-roughened voice. "Not now." Jason was still curled against his side, fast asleep, and Bruce wanted to keep it that way.

"Okay, okay," Dick not-quite-whispered, still beaming like the noonday sun. "I'll be quiet." He turned his attention back to the toddler version of his younger brother, mouth curling in a silent, adoring coo.

Bruce sighed again and resigned himself to getting up. Ignoring an effervescent Dick was usually about as successful as ignoring the sun in the middle of a desert.

At noon.

Without any cover.

"Fine," he said, carefully gathering up Jason's warm, soft little form and passing it to Dick, whose expression somehow managed to _brighten_. "Watch him while I go take a shower." He rolled out of bed, grumbling under his breath about effervescent first sons who woke their poor fathers up _far too early in the morning._

Dick, for his part, took Jason with remarkable grace and settled on the bed with his back against the headboard. He managed to lay the baby comfortably across his chest without waking him. "Hi there, Jay-bee," he whispered, ignoring Bruce's grumbling as the man disappeared into the master bathroom. "What did you get yourself into, huh?"

Jason's chubby little face was angelic in sleep. Soft breaths puffed between his lips, warming the exposed skin of Dick's shoulder. One tiny hand clutched at the front of his wifebeater. Dick cooed and leaned down, pressing a kiss against Jason's temple. "Why can't you always be this cute and nonviolent?" He asked regretfully.

Predictably, Jason didn't respond.

* * *

Jason squirmed awake just as Bruce emerged from the bathroom, half-dressed with a towel around his neck.

"Woah there!" Dick laughed, catching his little brother just before he toppled off the bed.

Jason squinted up at him for a second before he yawned enormously. "'ickie?" he asked.

Dick's jaw dropped. He glanced over at Bruce, wide-eyed; the other man had frozen mid-step, a surprised expression on his face. "Did you just-" he stopped and repositioned Jason so that they were facing each other, intent blue eyes meeting drowsy green. "Do you know who I am, Jay-bee?"

Jason shot him a distinctly annoyed look as he rubbed at his face. "Dickie," he said, frowning. He reached out and smacked Dick's chest. "Bwudda'."

"Brother?" Dick clarified, thrilled. "I'm your brother?"

"Bwo-thew," Jason insisted. He looked around, bangs falling in a messy line across his lazarus-green eyes, and finally spied Bruce. His face lit up like a Christmas tree. "Da!" he squealed, wiggling out of Dick's arms. "Daddy!"

Dick deposited Jason safely on the floor and watched as he toddled over at full speed and launched himself at Bruce with a delighted cry.

"Hey, Jay," Bruce said, scooping him up onto one hip. His voice shook just the tiniest bit. "Hey there."

Jason giggled. "Da, bwekfast!" he demanded, patting Bruce's bare shoulder insistently.

"Sure, Jay-lad," he rasped, blinking rapidly as he tucked the warm, soft little head under his chin in a hug. "Let's go get breakfast."

That boy would be the death of him.


	3. Cassie

They paused just long enough for Bruce to pull on a shirt and wrestle a too-big tee on Jason before making their way to the kitchen. Dick had his phone out as he walked behind his father and was encouraging Jay to make silly faces at the camera.

"Say, Bruce," Dick said suddenly, "why do you think he remembers you and me, but called us 'daddy' and 'brother' instead of our names?"

Bruce honestly hadn't been thinking about it too closely, but Dick's question made him frown thoughtfully. "Whatever magic did this didn't take away his memories of us, I suppose," he said, absentmindedly adjusting his grip on Jason when the baby attempted to climb him like a tree. "It just… simplified our relationships to a level a three-year-old would understand. Hence 'daddy' and 'brother.'"

Dick hummed, tucking his phone away as they entered the kitchen. "I wonder what he'll call everyone else."

That question was partly answered a second later when Cass came bouncing over, a wide grin on her face, and snatched Jay from Bruce's arms.

"Little brother!" she cooed, lifting him above her head.

Jay's expression went from outrage to delight in the space of a breath. "Cassie!" he squealed, reaching grabby hands for her face.

"Cass," Bruce commented belatedly, his arms still-half curled where they had been holding Jason. "You're back?"

"Alfred called," she said, not looking away from Jason. "Little brother… littler." She tossed him in the air, grinning when his high-pitched peals of laughter echoed through the kitchen. "Much littler!"

"Miss Cassandra, kindly stop throwing Master Jason in the middle of my kitchen," Alfred said dryly from the stove. He pulled a tray of muffins from the oven and turned around. "Your roughhousing can continue later."

"Sorry," Cass said, not sounding sorry at all as she set Jay on her shoulders and exchanged a one-armed hug with Dick. "Oh, also, brought baby clothes." She gestured to a group of plastic bags sitting on the end of the island.

Jason, for his part, was utterly delighted by his new vantage point, grabbing a fistful of her jet-black hair in one hand and pointing enthusiastically at Alfred with the other.

"Ganpa!" He declared. "Hi! Hi!"

Alfred froze, turning surprised eyes toward the baby. For once, the normally imperturbable butler was at a loss for words. On the other side of the kitchen, Dick and Bruce sported matching grins.

Jason frowned at the lack of response. "Ganpa," he said seriously. "Ganpa, you say hi too. Say hi."

"Ah…of course. Hello, Master Jason," Alfred said, his voice a tad shaky. "Forgive my rudeness."

Cassandra somehow managed to stealthily swap Jason and the tray of muffins, so that Jay was in Alfred's arms and the tray in her hands. She smiled innocently when Alfred recovered enough to send her a _look_ , and trotted off toward the dining room with a distinct air of satisfaction.

"Uh oh," Dick said laughingly, hiding his smile behind a hand. Jason had latched firmly onto Alfred's shirt and didn't look like he was going to relinquish his hold anytime soon. "Looks like Jay-bee isn't going to let you go, Alfie. You'll just have to sit with us for breakfast."

Bruce nodded solemnly when Dick elbowed him, not quite able to suppress his grin. "You can't upset the baby, Alfred," he agreed.

Alfred loosed a long-suffering sigh, shifting Jason up onto one hip as he grabbed the last remaining pitcher of juice and set off after Cassandra. "If the young master insists," he said mildly.


	4. I a Bat, Daddy

Breakfast with baby Jason was considerably more peaceful than breakfasts with adult Jason tended to be. Not that that was saying much. The bar for 'peaceful' breakfasts in the Wayne household was notoriously low.

Jason babbled at Alfred and treated the butler's patient attempts to get food into him as a hilarious game. Cass looked on and giggled, occasionally snapping a photo on her smartphone. Dick and Bruce became engrossed in a conversation about Zatanna and potential cures within seconds of sitting down, though Jason's high-pitched comments sidelined them every once in awhile.

At one point, something warm and sticky slapped against Bruce's cheek. He looked up, startled, and wiped at his face. His hands came away covered in oatmeal. Jay giggled mischievously.

Dick made a sound that was between a wheeze, a laugh, and a cough.

"You alright there, chum?" his father asked dryly, cleaning his face with a few deft movements.

"Ueehhyah," Dick said, his voice several pitches higher than normal. His face was firmly hidden in his hands. When he finally managed to look up, eyes tear-bright and dancing with mirth, the longsuffering look on Bruce's face nearly sent him into convulsions again. "Bless you, little wing," he gasped, pressing his forehead to the table.

Cass plucked Jason off Alfred's lap as soon as he had finished eating. "I will dress him," she announced with glee, disappearing back into the kitchen.

"She was… suspiciously happy about that," Dick observed as he buttered yet another slice of toast. Bruce hummed in agreement.

Cass reappeared in short order, a shit-eating grin on her face, and Bruce nearly had an aneurysm at the sight of the baby in her arms.

Jason was dressed in a hooded grey onesie with yellow accents on the cuffs and feet. Tiny little nubs pointed off the hood, childish imitations of Batman's cowl. A bright yellow pacifier, emblazoned with a black bat, rested in his mouth. The baby giggled, reaching out from Cassandra's arms for his father as she carried him back towards the table.

"Bat!" he said, the cry muffled by his pacifier.

Bruce took Jay from his daughter, eyeing the outfit with trepidation as Jason grabbed two tiny fistfuls of his shirt. "Cassandra," he said with a mildness he didn't feel. The outfit was heart-stoppingly adorable, but he'd never admit that. "What is this?"

Cass giggled and, tellingly, didn't answer.

Jason let the pacifier drop from his mouth. "Bat, daddy," he said, as if that explained it. He peered up with wide, earnest green eyes. "I a bat."

"And quite a charming bat you make, Master Jason," Alfred said, materializing from wherever he had disappeared to. Bruce jumped, startled, then cursed himself for being so distracted.

Alfred side-eyed him. "Your… _guests_ have arrived, Master Wayne."

Bruce frowned, absently stooping to retrieve Jay's pacifier. "Guests? Plural? Hm. I don't suppose you'd like to warn me who exactly Zatanna brought with her, Alfred?"

The old butler's lips twitched the tiniest bit. "No, sir, I think I shall leave that a surprise."

Bruce sighed. "Well, let's go find out then."


	5. Diana

**Here's where we get into my personal headcanons. Since this is a purely self-indulgent fic, you're just going to have to roll with it :')**

* * *

Bruce carried Jay, the rest of the family following after him like a line of crime-fighting ducklings. With no small amount of trepidation, he opened the grandfather clock and descended the stairs. Two women stood silhouetted against the primary computer monitor, engaged in a quiet conversation.

Zatanna, who was facing them, smiled as she caught sight of the tiny child in Bruce's arms. "There you are! Sorry, I had to bring her. We were cursed on the last mission. Can't move more than thirty yards away from each other until it wears off."

The other woman turned around, dark hair flying in a graceful arc, a delighted smile stretching across her face as she spied Jason.

"A baby!" Wonder Woman cooed in delight. "Zatanna, you didn't tell me he was this young!"

"Oh, this should be _good_ ," Dick muttered to Cass.

Jason perked up in Bruce's arms as he spied Wonder Woman, turning and reaching for her with excited little squeaks. She closed the distance in three long strides and took him into her arms. "Hello, little one," she said, brushing the baby's messy bangs out of his eyes. "Do you remember me?"

Jay beamed up at her and allowed the pacifier to drop from his mouth again. "Mama!" he answered.

You could have heard a pin drop in the ensuing silence. Everyone except Bruce, who had his head in his hands, stared at the toddler in shock. Jay blithely ignored the reaction, instead reaching up and grabbing fistfuls of Diana's hair.

"Ma!" He repeated, tugging at the strands. "Mama!"

Diana blinked rapidly, a shocked and delighted grin creeping across her face. "Well, I guess you do remember me, huh?"

"Yuh!" He said cheerfully.

"I didn't know he was that close to you, Diana," commented Dick, who was watching his baby brother with interest.

Her smile turned small and sad as she gently combed her fingers through Jay's hair. "We were… when he was Robin, we were close. I didn't know he thought quite so highly of me, though."

"He loved you," Bruce said, finally raising his face from his palms. He looked pained. "He used to say he wished _you_ had adopted him when he was mad at me." The pain deepened into something like agony. "Sometimes I wish you had."

Diana's breath hitched. Jason, apparently sensing that something was wrong, released her hair and turned around, a worried pout on his lips. "Daddy?" He asked, eyes wide. "Daddy's sad?" He wiggled down from Diana's arms and toddled over toward the man.

Bruce choked on a laugh, reaching down and sweeping Jay up. "A little," he admitted, enduring the clumsy pats on the face that Jason offered as comfort. "But it's ok, Jay-lad. You make it better."


	6. Tim

Tim stared at the toddler.

The toddler stared back, a displeased pout on his lips.

"Uh, Bruce?" Tim said uncertainly. Bruce grunted in acknowledgment but didn't look away from the monitor. Tim continued, "why is there an… uh… baby? In your lap?"

"Hm?" Bruce glanced down. "Oh. Jason, go with Tim."

"What?" Tim squeaked.

Jason latched onto Bruce's front with an indignant cry of "no!"

Bruce carefully pried those tiny little hands away from his suit and held the toddler up so they were eye-to-eye. "I need to work on this case, Jay-lad," he said seriously. "Go with Tim."

Apparently even tiny-Jason knew the sanctity of casework, because he scowled but allowed the man to pass him over to an extremely uncertain Tim.

"Uh," said the young vigilante, awkwardly holding the grumpy child away from his chest. "What am I supposed to do with it— him?"

"Go ask Alfred," Bruce muttered distractedly, already reabsorbed in the case.

Jay scowled all the way up the stairs, looking determinedly away from his new minder.

"Ah, Master Timothy," said Alfred when they reached the kitchen. He was just pulling out a batch of fresh cookies, and the warm, homey scent filled the kitchen. "Would you like one?"

Jay instantly returned to beaming cheerfulness. "Ganpa, I want one!" he said, reaching grabby hands toward the cookies, and alright, Tim was man enough to admit that was pretty adorable.

"Of course, Master Jason," Alfred said. Relieved, Tim went to hand the child off, but the old man's eyes were alight with mischief. "But only if you share with Master Timothy."

The boys' faces immediately twisted into identical expressions of betrayal. "Alfred!" Tim gasped as Jason whined petulantly.

"What's all this fuss?" asked Diana, striding into the kitchen. Tim jolted in surprise, not expecting to see the Amazonian in his house, much less in his kitchen and wearing… Batman pajamas?

That was undoubtedly Dick's doing.

"Mama!" Jay cried, switching his attention from the cookies to her, and ok that's not _at all_ what Tim expected him to say. Thankfully, Diana reached out and took the baby from him.

He retreated to a safe distance.

"So, what… uh… happened?" Tim asked, his voice pitching up uncertainty.

"Some magician got ahold of Red Hood while he was on patrol," said Diana, patiently feeding a cookie to the baby in her arms. "Zatanna just left to look for clues, since our curse wore off an hour ago."

Tim nodded in understanding, having read the report of their last mission, and absently accepted a cookie when Alfred offered it. The warmth seeped into his cold fingers. "Right, so uh… I'm going to go… help." He turned and fled for the safety of the cave.

 _I am not babysitting Jason,_ he thought. _He'd find a way to shoot me, as a baby or as an adult._


	7. Damian

Bruce was awoken by a sudden upwelling of noise outside his bedroom door.

And by 'upwelling of noise' he of course meant 'furious screams from his annoying children.'

Batman, scourge of the night, father of five children (or more, depending on how one counted), did what all fathers do when confronted with their children this early in the morning: he rolled over, buried his head beneath his pillow, and went back to sleep.

Unfortunately, the screams only drew closer to his bedroom door. Bruce groaned into the mattress, trying in vain to block out the sounds. "Not _now,_ " he mumbled plaintively. "Let me sleeeeep."

"FATHER!" Damian screeched, kicking his door open.

Resigned, Bruce sat up and squinted in the light from the doorway. He glanced at the bedside clock, which read '7:00 a.m.' in red, accusing numbers.

"What, Damian...?" he asked, trailing off into a puzzled silence as he beheld his son. Was that Jason attached to his back? Was that Jason yanking angrily at Damian's short black hair?

"I demand that you remove this _hellion_ from the household at once!" Damian howled, spinning around in a circle as he attempted to remove the toddler from his person.

Jason loosed a war cry and crawled further up onto Damian's head. "MEANIE-PANTS," he screeched.

Bruce sighed exhaustedly and rolled out of bed. "Jay-lad, stop that," he said, walking over and holding up his arms. "Come here." Immediately, Jason stopped assaulting his brother and instead scrambled up and launched clumsily from Damian's shoulders. Bruce caught the little boy with ease, running one hand down his back as he latched onto Bruce's front like a little Koala bear.

"He's _mean,_ " Jason said, the accusation muffled in the bare skin of Bruce's neck. "Mean mean _mean_."

"Damian, what did you say to him?" Bruce asked longsufferingly.

Damian reared back in indignant offense. "Nothing! I merely informed him that you were not, in fact, his father, and that Wonder Woman was _certainly_ not his mother, and that he will shortly be returning to his proper age because I _refuse to put up with his screeching!_ "

Jason sobbed into his shoulder (" _Dah-deeeee!"_ ), and Bruce tilted his head back toward the ceiling, asking any gods who would listen for patience. "Damian," he groaned over Jay's wailing. "You can't say that to a three-year-old."

Damian scoffed but didn't reply, and that alone spoke volumes.

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. "Just… go help Alfred with something, alright? We'll talk about this later."

His youngest turned sharply on his heel, furious, and left the room.

"Shh, Jay-lad, it's alright," Bruce soothed, pacing the length of his bedroom as he tried to calm the toddler. "It's alright."

"Ah-ah-are yuh-you," Jay said, hiccuping enough to render his words nearly unintelligible, "nuh-nuh-not my duh-daddy?"

"I am your daddy, Jason," Bruce said firmly, peeling the baby off his shoulder to look him in the eyes. He easily ignored the lump in his throat. "Don't listen to Damian, ok?"

Jay's flushed, tear-streaked face screwed up and he promptly burst into tears again, throwing his tiny arms back around Bruce's shoulders.

 _Ah, parenthood,_ Bruce thought wryly.


	8. Clark, Wally, and Hal

Superman knew that something was afoot the moment Batman stepped into the Watchtower. For one, his friend's heart rate was unusually elevated. For another (and, perhaps, more obvious), he was accompanied by the tiny, fluttering pulse of a child.

Diana's head raised immediately when he turned toward the door. "They're here?" she asked, an excited smile blooming across her face. _They,_ Superman noted, not _he_. He nodded mutely, following after the Amazon as she stood and quickly left the room.

Batman was, sure enough, holding a toddler. The little boy was settled against Batman's chest, a tiny domino mask over his eyes, dressed in a miniature Batman onesie that made Superman's eyes widen in disbelief. Was he seeing what he thought he was seeing?

The sleepy child raised his head when Diana entered, his expression immediately brightening. "Mama!" he cried, reaching out for her.

Superman took a moment to check himself for any strange, alien devices that might have been warping his senses. He found nothing. _Maybe I should go find J'onn,_ he thought to himself.

At that exact moment, J'onn tapped at his mind. _You're not hallucinating,_ he said, and withdrew.

 _Thanks,_ Superman thought in response as he watched Diana lift the toddler above her head and make kissy faces at him. _That, uh... doesn't help much._

* * *

Wally had been forewarned by Dick about tiny-Jason, but it was still something of a shock to see Diana playing hide-and-seek in the training rooms. He found himself standing in the doorway, watching the strange scene in a kind of disbelieving trance.

"Hmm," Diana hummed, looking around dramatically despite the fact that half of Jason's body was clearly visible; the training dummy's lower half was significantly smaller than it's upper half. "Where has my little bluejay gone? I wonder…." Her smile widened when the toddler's badly-stifled giggles echoed around the room.

"Is he over…. here?" She lifted the edge of the training mat and peered beneath. "Hmm, no."

Jason giggled madly and peeked out from his hiding spot.

"Aha!" cried Diana, spotting him and pointing a finger. "There you are!" Jason shrieked and dashed away, still giggling. They ran in circles until Diana 'finally' caught him, swinging him up into her arms and relentlessly tickling his sides as he squirmed and howled with laughter.

"Trippy," Hal commented in an undertone, also pausing to watch.

Wally nodded in agreement.


	9. Regret

**Thus it ends. No, I'm never adding to this ever again. LET IT DIE.**

* * *

Jason woke up naked and alone on a cot, covered only by a thin sheet. "What the fuck!" he said, bolting upright. The room spun around him and he pressed a hand to his forehead. _Batcave,_ something whispered, and yeah, he was not ok with that.

" _Shit_." He hopped out of bed, staggering drunkenly, and looked around for both clothing and an escape. While his relationship to the Batclan had settled into something approximating neutrality, he still didn't trust them not to throw him into Arkham first chance they got. Luckily, there was a pile of folded-up clothing on the chair by the cot. "Thanks, Alfie," he muttered as he yanked the shirt over his head.

Fully dressed (though without shoes) he flicked the lights off, carefully eased the door open a sliver, and looked out with one eye. The Batcave was silent, and he couldn't see anyone. He eased the door further open with agonizing slowness and stepped out into the open.

"Jay!"

Jason screamed and bolted.

"Wait, Jason!" Dick shouted, running after him, but Jason had the fear of God in him. He parkour'd to the nearest motorbike in record time and vaulted onto it. The tires squealed against the cave floor for a moment, then he shot off, pressed low against the handlebars. He didn't remember to breathe until he was far, far away from his nightmare 'family.'

Unfortunately, he forgot that Dick had his phone number.

A long chain of texts was waiting for him when he entered the safehouse (walking gingerly around on his bare feet):

 **Jason wait D:**

 **Jason**

 **Jason, it's cool we're not to do anything**

 **Do you remember what happened?**

 **Jay, you missed so much lmao**

 **Someone turned you into a toddler**

 **You were so cute ;_;**

 **[Jason_Peekaboo video]**

 **[Jay_Foodfight video]**

 **[Grandpa pic]**

 **[Jay_ Bruce pic]**

 **[MOMMY_ DIANA video]**

 **[Jaybee pic]**

 **[Daddybats video]**

 **Jay watch the videos**

 **Jaaaaaayy**

 **I will hunt you down and sit on you until you watch them.**

 **Jason**

 **Jason Peter Todd, answer me**

 **Jason**

 **Jay?**

 **Jason are you alright?**

Jason's horror grew with each photo he opened. He ended up slumped on the rickety old cot, watching in mute horror as a tiny version of himself played tag with Wonder Woman—calling her 'mama' all the while.

"Oh god," he whispered. "Oh god, I can never show my face ever again. I've gotta… I've gotta…" The embarrassment was so overwhelming he felt like his heart might stop. "Ok, play it cool, Todd," he told himself, getting up and agitatedly pacing the floor. "Just… lay low for a while, yeah! They won't even remember this after like… a few… decades."

He paused.

"WELP, not like there's a better option!" he said, crushing the phone in his bare hand so that they couldn't use it to track him.

Within an hour, he was on a plane to Honduras.

* * *

None of the Bats saw Jason again for over a year, and even then they quickly learned that mentioning "The Incident" would only earn them a hard punch and radio silence for a week or more.

(And if a certain lady superhero quietly reconnected with him, and if they happened to rekindle their old friendship, well… no one was going to say anything.)

(And if Jason started coming to visit Alfred more often, or if he stopped being openly antagonistic toward Batman... no one was going to say anything about that either.)


End file.
